


Late-night longing

by myrish_lace



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dirty Talk, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Jon and Sansa Are Not Related, Jon is a little bit possessive but not a lot, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Behavior, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-12 09:19:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10487448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrish_lace/pseuds/myrish_lace
Summary: Jon and Sansa are lovers who work at the same law firm, and share an apartment. They met when working on a trial together, but now they're on separate projects, and barely see each other. Jon comes home late one night to find Sansa still awake, and they make the most of it. Featuring a slightly possessive Jon, dirty talk, angst, and a present from Sansa.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another sexytimes installment based loosely in my modern lawyers au. I don't know what it is about this playground that lends itself to Dark Jon, but - here's some more! :) And I swear, one day, I'll write more plot in this universe. Gotta map out that next trial lol. Didn't want to attach this to the "Law of Attraction" series for fear that becomes a smut-fest, but I did want to share this. :) Thanks to those who encouraged me to post this as a stand-alone fic. As usual with me, this is very light Dark Jon. "Slightly dominant" is probably cloae to the mark. Hope you enjoy!

Jon stared at the box, baffled.

Why was a large rectangular cardboard package waiting like an expectant guest on the doorstep of their apartment?

Jon shrugged and hefted it over his shoulder, He turned the key in the lock, wondering wearily if he could manage to slip under the covers with Sansa without waking her.

They used to be able to share dinner and unwind most nights, joking about the case they were working on. They'd had the luxury of working on a trial together, which meant they had spent almost every minute in each other's company at Tyrell & Tyrell. While falling in love with a fellow attorney had seemed perilous at the time, he and Sansa couldn't deny how they felt, and they'd been an official couple for six months now. He smiled at the memory of the first real fight they'd had when he moved in. Sansa had eventually convinced him dishtowels were 1) necessary, 2) part of any civilized kitchen and 3) required to be both embroidered and color-coordinated.

But now a new white-collar crime matter had come along – Sansa's specialty. Jon and Sansa found themselves back where they'd started – in their different departments, working twelve to fifteen hour days on separate projects. _I see her less now than I did when we first met, even though we live together_. It was taking a toll on both of them. They kissed quickly in the morning, and texted each other during the day, but Jon missed just being with her, sitting on the couch watching dumb TV with her head on his shoulder.

Also, you know, sex. But they were both wiped out at the end of each day. Jon was looking forward to throwing his arm over Sansa's shoulder while she slept, before they both groaned at the alarm.

Sansa was awake, though. Jon head her humming as he took off his shoes. She was in the kitchen, in her pink robe, making a late-night snack of hummus and carrots. She was swaying in time to the music in her head. Jon was mesmerized by the motion of her hips. He could watch her dance all day, but right now he needed more. He needed her. He left the box on the kitchen counter and came up behind her. He drew Sansa to him, startling her at first. She relaxed and leaned back into him.

"You're still up," he murmured, lifting her hair away from her neck.

"Disappointed?" Jon could hear the smile in her voice.

Jon kissed her neck, holding her close, and heard Sansa sighed happily. His head swam. She smelled so good that he could hardly think straight. He slid his hand over her robe, rubbing her stomach. "I miss you, sweet girl." Sansa titled her head back. "I miss you too."

Jon found his way to the sash on Sansa's terrycloth robe. "I hate this technology."

Sansa tsked. "Jon, it's a robe. You tie them in the front."

"Do you?" He tugged the knot free and touched the soft skin underneath.

Sansa smirked. "Maybe not when you're here."

"Definitely not when I'm here." The feeling of being this close to her, of hearing her breath hitch as he touched her, was driving him crazy. It had been so long since he'd been inside her. He dipped his hand between her legs and hissed. She was already wet, and he started to stroke her, making her wrap an arm around his neck.

"You feel so good, Sansa." He cupped her breast with his other hand, rolling her nipple between his fingers. Sansa arched her back. God, she was gorgeous. He kissed her hair.

"Jon, please, don't stop..." She wasn't going to last more than a few minutes. It had been too many days for both of them. Jon nuzzled her behind her ear, loving how she spread her legs for him. He curled two fingers inside her, and felt her start to flutter. He knew she was close.

"That's it, Sansa, I want to feel you go over the edge while I touch you." He sounded rough and dark, but Sansa wound her hand into his curls. She was strung tight, full of tension, and Jon needed to see her face, wanted her to come apart for him, only him.

"Jon, please, make me say it." Jon curved his lips at her neck. Sansa wanted this game tonight, and he was happy to play along. He pressed her into him, so she would know how hard he was for her. He swept his fingers in quick circles over her clit, and she almost went over.

"You're mine, Sansa, and you know it. Say it, beautiful girl." Sansa was panting, lost to the rhythm of his voice.

"I'm - oh god Jon!" She came around his fingers before she could get the words out and he worked her through it, holding her, telling her how much he loved seeing her like this for him, just him. He captured her mouth and kissed her, wishing he could take the robe clean off her, get closer to her skin. But he knew she'd get cold, and he didn't want to make her uncomfortable. He turned her around, so her back was to the counter. He drank in the sight of her flushed cheeks, and her dark red hair spilling around her shoulders. He ached for her.

He was pretty sure she felt the same. She was tugging at his suit jacket. "Jon, it's been so long, please." Her fingers were at his zipper. They weren't going to make it to the bedroom.

"I'm going to take you right here, love."

She let out a shaky laugh. "Oh thank god."

Jon smiled at her. "Do you promise to say it this time?" She freed his cock, finally giving him some relief. Sansa looked at him from under her eyelashes as she ran her hand up and down his length. Minx. "I promise."

"Good girl." He lifted her on the counter, grateful for how their heights matched. He slid into her slowly, unable to keep a groan from escaping, focusing on how her mouth opened and how her fingers tightened on his jacket. He was fully sheathed inside her, and it took every bit of control he had not to start thrusting right there and then. She was hot, and tight, and _his_. He felt the impact of the possessive game they played more strongly than he had before. He made a sound low in his throat and clasped his hands behind her head, keeping her in place. "Fuck, you feel so good, so tight, Sansa. You belong to me, love, _only_ me." She responded instantly, trying to move, making small, high noises in her throat. Jon steadied her. "Tell me first, Sansa. I want to hear you."

Sansa whined. He could feel her building up again, starting to flutter around his cock. "God Jon, _yes_ , I'm yours-"

Jon growled against her neck, thrusting into her, spurred on by the high, needy sound of her voice, how eagerly she moved with him. "Then show me, Sansa. Come for me."

He felt her walls clamp down on him as soon as the command was out of his mouth, and that was his undoing. His hips stuttered as he came, spilling inside her, squeezing his eyes shut to keep from cursing loud enough to wake the neighbors.

They were both breathing heavily. Jon helped Sansa off the counter. She tried to close her robe and giggled when Jon kept it open, running his hands over her hips, before letting her tie the sash. He peppered her cheeks with kisses. His heart expanded when she held his face in her hands. He looked into her clear blue eyes and let gratitude wash over him that Sansa had said yes – to loving him, to living together.

Sansa released him. Jon pulled his pants back over his hips, wishing he could slip on a robe of his own. She stretched and stifled a yawn, promptly knocking the cardboard box off the counter. It bounced off the tile floor and skidded to a stop. Sansa dove for it.

She blew out a sigh of relief. "Well, it doesn't sound like the glass is broken." She held the package out to him.

"Glass?" Jon took it from her automatically, and pulled the tab at the top. Had she gotten him some kind of picture?

Sansa helped him pull the frame out. It was made of heavy wood, with gilt edges and moulding, and had the name of his law school embossed in gold letters right under where the diploma fit.

"Sansa..."

She kissed him on the cheek. "Well, you refused to frame it yourself. What did you call it, a ‘frivolous expense?’ But I think you should be proud of it, Jon. I'm proud of you. And you can't exactly tack a diploma to your cork board in your office."

Jon's parents had died when he was young, and a distant aunt had reluctantly raised him. She'd booted him out where turned 18. When he walked across the stage at his high school and college graduations, no one had been in the audience waving or snapping pictures. He'd skipped his law school ceremony, and gotten his diploma in the mail. Sansa must have snuck the document out of their "important papers" files.

He felt tears well up in his eyes. _Great, good job, Jon, keep your act together_. He tried to talk, and stopped. Sansa had found a way around the barrier he'd put up about not celebrating his accomplishments. Of course she had.

"Jon?" Sansa was biting her lip, and Jon hated that his inability to get a grip on his emotions had made her nervous.

"Thank you," he finally managed, not even embarrassed when his voice cracked. "I – thank you, Sansa." What had he done to deserve her?

Sansa placed the frame carefully in the living room. Then she sidled up to him and took his hand.

"You're welcome. Now, take me to bed and make me say all sorts of filthy things." She was grinning.

"You'll be tired in the morning." Jon had already picked her up.

Sansa waved a hand casually. "Don't care, worth it. And I'm going to check your office you know, to make sure you hang that diploma."

Jon knew she meant it, too.


End file.
